


Game of Thrones, Season 6, Leaked Story

by Trancemaster



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Leaked, Screenplay/Script Format, season 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4213053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trancemaster/pseuds/Trancemaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This leaked document shows where the story picks up at the beginning of Season 6 of HBO's Game of Thrones.</p>
<p>I will continue to post chapters/scenes as my source at HBO releases them to me.</p>
<p>The format is not screenplay as you can tell these are the raw ideas that go into the making of the hit show.</p>
<p>Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. JON I

 

 

 

**He never felt the fourth knife. _Only the cold..._**

 

As his consciousness slipped from his body he could only muster a whisper.  "Ghost..."  His voice was so faint as that he wasn't sure whether he was saying the words or thinking them.

But it wasn't Ghost he warged into, his skinchanging was glitching like crazy, and his consciousness started jumping around between those who were closest to him.  This happened to be the mutineers who had just caesared him.  

First he felt himself enter a body he knew belonged to Alliser Thorne.  He could tell because his balls and dick were super tiny and shriveled and old.  He still held his bloody knife and was standing over a corpse he knew was himself.  He hadn't actually gazed upon himself in a while, as the Night's Watch didn't have many mirrors.   _Even though he was dead he still looked really handsome, and he thought he would totally do himself._   This gave him some solace.

At first it felt like he could only watch through Thorne's eyes, like a watching a movie.  _He then realized he didn't know what a movie was_.  He could also feel what Thorne felt, like his little dick and fat gut and smelly furs.  

He started to gain control of his limbs.   _No, they weren't his limbs, they were Thorne's._   ThorneJon screamed a familiar phrase to get the mutineers all pumped up.  

"FOR THE WATCH," he yelled. "KILL THE BOY!"  He turned around and saw Olly, the little cocksucker.  He punched Olly in the stomach and the knife stuck into him and stayed there as he pulled away his bloody fist.  The other mutineers were hella confused and just looked around.  ThorneJon unsheathed his sword and started wildly swinging at the mutineers, who started to scatter.  

Jon then lost control of his skinchanging again, and slipped into Olly's body.  He was aware of  _the unfathomable pain which Olly felt_  but he couldn't feel it himself.  He pulled the dagger out of his abdomen and rushed at Thorne, who was facing the other way, staggering aimlessly, dazed and confused.  He was still holding his longsword,  _covered in blood._   OllyJon flanked Thorne stealthily and went right for the balls and bunghole, stabbing repeatedly.  

"Kill the boy!" yelled the other mutineers, who were surrounding Thorne and OllyJon.  The last thing Jon felt as he slipped out of Olly's body was the cold steel of Thorne's sword cutting clean through his neck.  As his head tumbled back, he caught sight of an eagle flying above, then everything went black again.  

Suddenly he was inside the eagle.  He wasn't literally inside the eagle,  _sexually_ ; just his consciousness was inside it.

He soared over the mutineers as they slashed Alliser Thorne to pieces.  The body and head of the incredible douchebag Olly were laid out, separated, in the largest pool of blood the north had ever seen.   _Not really the largest ever, but it was a lot of blood, regardless._   

As the mutineers continued to fight, distracted by their fervor, EagleJon saw Dolorous Edd dragging his "Jon body" back towards the wall, sobbing quietly.

_Jon didn't like having no dick as an eagle_ but he was tired so he headed back to his nest and took a little bird nap.


	2. The Queenmaker (Jaime I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on chapter 2 still but here is 3 for now. Just so you all know I've working on it.
> 
> ALSO IF PEOPLE WANT TO WRITE CHAPTERS FOR THIS I'VE BEEN TRYING TO CROWD-SOURCE IT.

 

**The Queenmaker**

Jaime shivered on the cold wooden poopdeck as he gazed into the cold dead eyes of Myrcella, his niece, daugther, and future girlfriend, though she didn’t know it yet,  Jaime was glad that this episode wouldn’t make it to the King’s Guard book.

 

_Slayed Aerys II to prevent Tywin’s Murder_

_Allowed Robert to be Murdered_

_Allowed Joffrey to be Murdered_

_Allowed Myrcella to be Murdered_

_Freed Tyrion to prevent his Murder_

_Allowed Tywin to be Murdered_

_Allowed Tyrion to escape_

 

He could only see the entries in the book running by his face again and again.  

“FUCK NO!  I just can’t take it.”  He let the hate flow through him.

“Let's regroup,” he thought, in his pure and utter anguish.

My new girlfriend was just murdered by poison with a ton of witnesses.  I saw Doran Martell sanction this killing.  That little cuntbag seemed so smart but this makes literally no sense.  Anyway.  Now I have his heir.  His only son.  If only he had some older brothers, he would be more expendable.  In Dorne, even an older sister would have taken the throne over a younger male.  Ha, fucking stupid Dornish custom.  WAIT.

Why didn’t the Dornish even mention how Myrcella would have superseded Tommin for the throne?  Did none of them even think of it?  That would have made quite a bit more sense than to randomly kill this poor girl in front of witnesses.

As a clever thought came over him, Jaime became excited over how devious he was being.  He stopped staring into his daughter-niece’s cold dead eyes and unsheathed his sword.  He went above deck and grabbed Tyrstane Martell.  The heir to Dorne.  A truly snivelling vagina.   He was a captive on a Westerosi bound ship, to be fair.  He must know that in westeros we do in fact hurt little girls.

So Jaime Grabbed Trystie and threw him below the upper poopdeck.  Right next to his love.

 

ARE YOU HITTING THAT?!  screamed Jaime.

 

The boy swallowed audibly.

“Am I hitting that?” he went to laugh but trailed off.  “Uhhhh….” trailing off… ” no.”

With those words Trystane broke down and cried before Myrcella’s body.

“Weeee were gonna be so happy!”  He whined…  

Jaime had to smack him, with his regular hand.

“She was my first kiss!”

Jaime slammed his golden hand next to Trystane’s face.

“And your last, if your family had their say.”  Jaime left the statement floating in the air before the dim boy picked it up.  “Yup, see those supple lips?”  Trystane nodded.  “Notice their poison-like sheen?”

Trystane nodded in utter disbelief again.  Jaime slapped him with his golden hand this time.

“They tried to kill you both.  Luckily they only got to her.  You were too much of a threat alive.  I am glad you two never went further, who knows what other poisons she had on herself.”

Trystane looked at himself, horrified.  He opened his pants to discover his Dornish dong and check for poisons.  Jaime smacked him with his golden hand.

“I know you weren’t complicit, and I know you’re upset and angry.  In that, we are allies.  Here’s the plan:

We bring you to king’s landing and act that Myrcella is alive. We let ravens fly back to Dorne to make sure they know.  Then we stage a fake wedding where you marry Myrcella.  We can use whoever at this point.  THEN we let ravens fly back to Dorne.  

 

Then we make you the fucking Queen.

“What?”  Peeped Trystane.

“Yup. Then no more Trystane Martell,” noted Jaime, matter-of-factly. Trystane gulped.

“You then become Myrcella.  You must become Queen, Trystane.  You already have the Baratheon looks, we can say your dormant traits surfaced.  Dress as her, take your rightful crown.  WE CROWN YOU.  WE MAKE YOU A QUEEN.  How does that sound?”

Trystane could only shiver in fear.  Jaime cleared his throat.

 

“HOW DOES THAT SOUND, TRYSTANE?  

Good?  Does it sound good, Trystane?  Does it?!”

Trystane managed a tiny nod.  Jaime finally finished sarcastically.

“Great,” Jaime finished sarcastically. “You cunt.  You’re honestly just a giant let down…. your grace.”  Trystane looked up as if Jaime was actually showing respect.

“From now on when anyone says ‘your grace,’ I want you to hear ‘you stuck up dornish cuntwillow of unusual size, backstabbing, little girl harming, milk drinking, hypocritical, dead ass little TWAT!”  Jaime waited for a response and Trystane just swallowed hard again.  Jaime finally drove it home.

 

“Yea, just keep swallowing… you’re going to be doing a lot of it.”

 


End file.
